


Always. - One-shot

by raccodactyl



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, PIV Sex, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Trans Male Character, no anatomically correct terms in this bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 22:47:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18926533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raccodactyl/pseuds/raccodactyl
Summary: Howdy partners. Message hit my inbox and it wasn't even a request but it was a sweet little message thanking me for writing stuff from fellow transmen so yeah, here's to you lovely fellers, you deserve it, you really do. So here's this. No anatomically correct terms in this bitch, see notes for terms used. Note unsafe binding techniques (be safe, friends.)Summary: Dysphoria is a real bitch and Arthur just wants to make you feel okay, distracting you in the only way he knows how.





	Always. - One-shot

**Author's Note:**

> AFAB genitalia addressed as "tip" and "opening." Chest referred to strictly as "chest." Unsafe binding techniques used and make-shift binder regarded as "unders" for lack of better term (and lack of personal creativity.) We're just gonna ignore all risk of pr******y because I'd rather not be reminded of that. Also I'm awful at editing so I hope this is readable (I don't think that's a word.)

Arthur ran his hands through your hair as you sat up from the barber chair, “Lookin’ mighty handsome, boy,” he said with a smile as his hand dropped. He dropped his hand and reached for a few bucks to pay and tip the barber. You walked out of the little saloon and Arthur continued to run his hands over the stubbly hairs at the back of your neck. Though he couldn’t be particularly forward out in public, the gentle, almost friendly affections still made your flutter as if it was the first time he touched you.

 

“Whadda you say we go and get you a new shirt from the store? Seems you’re in need of some new clothes,” he said.

 

“You don’t gotta go spoilin’ me,” you replied, “I’ve got plenty of clothes back home.”

 

“Mm,” he hummed in a high pitch, “You don’t though. C’mon, let’s get you something. Don’t fight it.”

 

You shook your head. You were happy and ever so grateful, but the kindness and generosity he showed you always left you flustered. You were stuck in a bit of a rut; your head hadn’t treated you at all kindly the past few weeks. He took notice, doing what he could to make you feel better in the slightest. Though you were reluctant to leave the house, he still managed to drag you out, getting the much-needed hair trim and now practically tugging you by the collar towards the small general store in Valentine.

 

“Afternoon, fellers,” you shopkeeper greeted as you walked through the door to the shop.

 

“Hey, partner,” Arthur nodded.

 

“Catalogue is on the counter, go ahead and take a look if you’d like,” the cashier said, gesturing toward the thick, printed book on the counter.

 

You ran your hand over the red cover before flipping to the clothing, Arthur watching intently over your shoulder. You scanned over the pages, some items catching your eye but the prices quickly nipping the interest. Arthur had none of that, calling the cashier to place order for the things your eyes lingered over. Your eyes went wide as you added up the numbers in the head for the garments he ordered. He called for about eight shirts and two pairs of pants, followed by a pair of boots.

 

The cashier went to the back of the store to fetch the items and you turned to Arthur, now even more flustered, “What the hell?”

 

“Don’t fight it,” he said again, a smirk on his face. “You need it.”

 

You clenched your jaw and gave him a stern look but his smile only grew wider. He placed his hand on your back and rubbed a wide circle before dropping his hand at the sight of the reentering cashier. Arthur grabbed the bills from his satchel and took the parcels of clothing. You called out a thanks to the shopkeeper before heading out to the street and starting your walk back towards the train station.

 

You went to speak but Arthur got there before you did, “I know you’re all fussy because I spent a bit of extra money on you, doll, but I won’t have any of it. You’ve far more than earned it.”

 

“I just hate spending money,” you grumbled.

 

“You didn’t,” he replied, “I did. A gift to you, darlin’.”

 

You arrived at the station and got off your horses, heading inside and paying for tickets to Wallace Station. The train arrived soon after and you set out towards home, the two of you sharing a cigarette and relaxing to the sound of the wheels of the train turning. The car was empty, no one heading up this way that this time of day, and he happily swung an arm around your shoulders, holding you close in the way that made him feel better.

 

You got to the next station and found your horses waiting outside, still hitched up where you had left them a few hours ago. You packed the saddlebags and rode into Big Valley, heading home after an eventful day. You arrived at your little cabin and tended to the horses before heading inside. Arthur leaned against the kitchen counter, letting out a content sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest, the reddish tint of the sky coming in through the window and leaving him looking almost gold.

 

“C’mere,” he said.

 

“Hm,” you said, moving to stand in front of him.

 

He unfolded his arms and settled his hands at your waist, “I just do it because I want you to feel alright about yourself, you know that right?”

 

“I appreciate it, I do,” you nodded, “Just not used to the kindness you show me.”

 

“I can understand,” he replied, moving to plant a quick kiss on your forehead, “Just know it makes me happy to do things for ya.”

 

You made eyes with him and he gave you a gentle smile, putting his hand on your jaw before moving his lips to meet yours, holding your body close and taking it slow. He hummed as you pulled away, “Love you.”

 

“Love you too, bear,” you said, leaning on your toes to peck the side of his mouth.

 

You parted and he shucked off his boots and tossed away his shirt, getting comfortable for the evening and just walking around in his trousers. He began to prepare supper, throwing some leftover meat and veggies in a pot to make stew. Though it had been a long time since you decided to separate from the gang, he remembered the staples Pearson taught him to make and learned to build on them with his own taste. He wasn’t a master chef, but he could cook well, taking joy in it.

 

He sat and waited for the pot to boil and you went to sit next to him but he caught your wrist, “Before I forget,” he said more to himself than to you, “Did you remember to take your unders off? I don’t want you cracking a rib again, doll.”

 

You let out a sigh, “I forgot to take it off.”

 

“Here,” he said as he stood up, “Get your shirt off and turn around.”

 

You let out another frustrated sigh and he only cooed, “I know, sweetheart, but it’s gotta be done.”

 

You let your suspenders dangle at your waist and tossed your shirt onto your bed before putting your hands on top of your head and letting him unravel the bandage around your chest. The tension released and your body relaxed, but that didn’t make the toll on your head go away. He put the roll of bandage on the counter before helping you get your shirt back on. He didn’t let you move far, tugging you in for a hug.

 

Your body stiffened for a minute, but he didn’t let up, only keeping you held in tight with his head leaned down into the top of yours. You relaxed, letting your head fall to his chest and wrapping your arms around his lower back. It was a sense of release. He took better care of you than you did. He cared for you in a way no one else did. He kept you standing.

 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he cooed, “I’ve got you. Always, I promise I’ve got you.”

 

“It all just hurts, Arthur,” you said in a cracked whisper.

 

“I know,” he said, now gently swaying from side to side. “You’re my handsome man, ain’t nothing gonna change that.”

 

You sniffled and turned your head, finding yourself engulfed in the scent of him as you rested your head into the crook of his neck. He continued to rub soothing circles into the back of your neck, humming soft and low and trying to do what he could to keep you grounded. You weren’t in a great place, but he did everything he could to make you feel better.

 

You pulled yourself up and wiped your eyes, his hands lingering on you and making sure you were stable enough to stand on your own. You took a seat at the table and he gave you a hot bowl of stew and a cup of milk. He sat across from you with the same setup, both of you starting to eat as you nudged each other’s legs below the table. You talked about other things, trying to get your mind away from yourself, and thankfully it seemed to work. He always managed to get a smile out of you, no matter how bad the day was.

 

You played dominoes as the sun went down, both of you happy to get the bit of quality time. Things felt okay for the time at hand, both of you in the moment and feeling graced by the presence of each other. Nights were quiet nowadays, a blessing you didn’t know you longed for until you got your hands on it. The seclusion the cabin brought you gave a far more real sense of comfort and security, Arthur sensed that too.

 

You cleaned up your game and tidied up the house before you and Arthur headed into the tight bedroom, you taking your spot up against the wall and him following, your shoulders nudging at one another. He pulled the blanket up to cover your thighs and snaked an arm around your lower back, letting your head rest on his shoulder once again.

 

You let yourself go in your thoughts, trying your best to keep them positive but your head always managed to get to you. You crossed your arms over your chest and scrooched up a bit. He noticed the new tension.

 

“Hey,” he whispered, “Where’s your head gone?”

 

“Nowhere good,” you replied.

 

“Well, I know how to keep us busy for a while.”

 

He moved from his position and turned off the bedside oil lamp, leaving only the dim bit of moonlight to illuminate the small space.  You leaned back a bit, tilting your head to lean up against the headboard letting him get comfortable, straddling your thighs and guiding your hands to rest on his bare hips. His hand found your face, his thumb gently caressing under your lip as he met your eyes.

 

“Is this okay,” he asked.

 

“Yes,” you nodded.

 

He moved down and met your lips in a kiss, starting off slow but soon his tongue began to poke out, spreading your lips and meeting your own, moving to compliment movements of the other. He let out a hum of satisfaction and admiration before moving from your mouth, pressing short kisses to your jaw and up to your ear, then moving down to your neck and the center of your throat. He found where your collar bone poked from your shirt and nibbled a mark into the skin, a physical sign of the love he always wished to show.

 

He shifted from his spot and moved down, cautiously tugging your shirt up only to reveal your stomach. He left sloppy kisses along the skin before paying closer attention below your navel. He pulled up as he got closer to the line of your trousers. You made eyes and nodded before scooting yourself down to lay back on the pillows and lifting your hips for him to continue.

 

Continue he did, undoing the fastens and tugging them down. In the dark you could hear him tossing them to the side, letting them land messily on the floor. He gently nudged your legs further and a sound left your throat as he pressed his lips to your thighs. One of your arms stayed folded while your free hand reached down for him. He felt you, continuing to mouth and tease at your thighs before interlocking your fingers with his.

 

“M gonna take good care o’ you,” he hummed lazily.

 

You let out a short whine when he finally found your most sensitive parts. He pressed more wet kisses around your front before taking you into his mouth, suckling on it and flicking it with his tongue. You let out a grunt and it only encouraged his motions, his hand slipping from yours and moving to wrap around your thigh. His free hand began to travel and you clutched the sheets. He moved to quickly lick two of his fingers and then returned, now pressing his fingers to your opening.

 

“Already leaking for me,” he said, low and warm, “You’re perfect.”

 

His beard scratched at your thighs but you didn’t care, losing yourself in the pleasure he was providing and relishing in the fact that your head was clear of any thoughts that didn’t regard him. He overtook your senses, leaving you a breathy, groaning mess underneath him. His fingers found the most sensitive parts of your opening, rubbing over it with each pass. He knew your body, knew what made you tick, and how to get the responses he craved.

 

“Unfair how good you taste,” he praised, “Swear it’s like opium.”

 

You let out a little half-laugh but didn’t say a word, only for him to tear another sound of pleasure from your throat. He lapped at your tip before sucking at it once again, bringing you closer to the edge with each movement of his lips. The thrusts of his fingers grew more focused and with a few more passes, you went over, your hand tangling in his hair as your thighs flexed. He kept your hips pinned down, making the high last as long as he could and lapping up the slick that pooled between your legs.

 

He wiped his beard with his forearm and stood on his knees. Immediately, you sat up and undid the buttons, tugging down his pants with abandon. His hardened cock sprang free, bobbling as it hit the air. He caught your wrists, playfully pinning you down and meeting your lips passionately, his tongue finding yours instantly as he took control. He let go of your wrists and went towards your legs, encouraging them to wrap around his torso.

 

“Need to feel you, darlin’,” he said through heavy breaths.

 

“Please,” you begged, “Take me, Arthur.”

 

You parted briefly, and as your eyes adjusted to the dark, you could make out his motions. He grabbed his base and guided his shaft towards your slick opening, his tip running over your own and practically making you jolt. Your hands gripped onto his shoulders as he inched his way inside of you, fitting like a glove.

 

“Swear you were made for me,” he says, “You’ve got me forever.”

 

“I love you,” you said as he bottomed out, wrapping your arms around his back.

 

“I love you,” he said back, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

 

He rolled his hips, hitting deep inside of you with each movement and sending waves of pleasure as you clamped around him.

 

“Oh, my boy,” he moaned, continuing to throw out praises and letting low grunts leave his throat. There was no reason to stifle the noise and he took that with gratitude, glad the seclusion allowed him to let loose.

 

The old bed creaked underneath you in time with his thrusts but neither of you gave it a second thought. Your mouth hung open and your eyes were closed with heavy lids. You could feel his eyes on you, taking the look and storing it in his mental rolodex of favorite moments.

 

His brow glistened in the moonlight from the sweat that built on his skin, his cheeks rosy lips a tad swollen. He was a sight for sore eyes if there ever was one. He was the picture of beauty in its rawest, purest form, and it was saved for your eyes alone. The pleasure he gave clouded your brain, but it didn’t stop your mind from registering the intimacy of it all. He was your only one, there was no doubt about that.

 

“Ahh,” he let out, “Doll, I ain’t gonna last.”

 

“Me neither,” you said.

 

You reached between your sweat-slicked bodies and rubbed your sensitive tip, bringing you closer and closer to your second high. More sounds rumbled through him, a mix of praises and curses as gave each other everything you had. With a few more slow but impossibly deep thrusts, he finished, clutching onto you and sending you into pure bliss once again. He rocked into you as you both lost yourselves, clutching onto one another as if your life depended on it.

 

You both tried to get your bearings, catching your breath and getting your senses back about you. He took a moment before pulling, leaving an emptiness and longing but of course, it had to be that way. He grabbed a rag from the bedside table and cleaned you both up, wiping his spend from your body keeping things from getting sticky.

 

The bed creaked as he got up but he didn’t go far, only grabbed a pair of union suits for each of you to dawn. You stood up and took off your shirt before slipping into the pants of it, Arthur doing up the buttons for you as he always liked to do. He got the bottom half up and you returned the favor, leaving the top few buttons undone as he always liked. Although somewhat mundane, it was the small things you two shared that left the lasting sense of security and drilled the fact that the two of you completed one another. You may have been fine on your lonesome, but never better than when you were with him. He was the soulmate people always talked about, no doubt about it.

 

The two of you tucked into bed and he happily cuddled with you, holding you like a teddy bear and keeping you warm to where you almost didn’t need a blanket. Still, he brought it up to cover just below his shoulders. He slung a leg over yours and his arm over your torso, though he was half on top of you. He was heavy, sure, but the pressure still made you feel secure, and you knew he took great comfort from being like this, your heartbeat lulling him to sleep. Soon his soft snores hit your ears and you let yourself drift off. He was always there, no matter how bad things got, he would always be there.


End file.
